A Thanksgiving Perspective

The following is mostly an internal musing typed out for the sharing - it is not intended to be a sociopolitical diatribe, so I hope it doesn't come off that way...

With a maternal family line that includes Oklahoma Cherokee, I often think about what Thanksgiving means to the indigenous people of North America. It must represent a moment of "oh crap, why did we let them stay??" Although historians will spin yarns of political alliances and arms-for-food treaties, one thing is for sure: Europeans only got a foothold on the continent because the natives allowed us to be here. And the descendants of those first Europeans have been breaking treaties and generally being asses to the folks who had been the custodians of the place for thousands of years.

I'm not an apologist about it. I'm pretty pragmatic about the whole thing. The European part of me is here and I'm not moving. But I have always believed that Thanksgiving should include more than just a passing mention of indigenous goodwill that was later repaid in smallpox-laced blankets, wholesale slaughter and forced relocation of entire populations. My great grandmother's people (perhaps only a generation or two prior to hers) were moved at gunpoint from their homes and villages in the Carolinas to the vastly different landscape of the Oklahoma Territory. And while I have no desire to darken this family holiday with tales of brutality, I would just urge everyone to spare a thought for those who were here before us, and who let our ancestors stay - regardless of the reason (strategic alliance, trade, guns, or just goodwill).

They came to our land
We did not understand
What they were here for

But soon we would see
To forget to be free
And to bow before a master

They came to our land
And what did we get?
A stab in the back
I will never forget
All my brothers who went
To die down at Bad Axe

Once we were so proud
A people of steel
Who knew what to live for

But it's hard to have pride
When you aren't even free
In a land that's your own

We gave up our land
And what did we get?
A stab in the back
I will never forget
All my brothers who went
To die down at Bear Paw

And the Earth here was ours
And we treated her well
Until the settlers arrived
To steal the precious land

They took us for slaves
But we would not give in
We would fight for what's ours
But we could never win
No, we could never win

Some say things have changed
That time heals all wounds
But this scar is just too deep to heal

I'm an American too
And I don't ask for much
I just want to be free

They gave up their land
And what did they get?
A stab in the back
I will never forget

All my brothers who went

To die on the Trail of Tears

- The Rise, Trail of Tears (1988)